


she'll play by your rules with my loaded dice

by pepperfield



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Scourge Sisters, miserable feelings disguised as fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperfield/pseuds/pepperfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sister: a female with whom one conspires; someone who backstabs, who plays the odds and kills off the weak and betrays the rest; someone who must be reigned in and tempered and dealt with personally.</p><p>someone to be missed.</p><p> <br/>[A Scourge Sisters ficlet collection.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	she'll play by your rules with my loaded dice

**Author's Note:**

> This will be periodically updated whenever I am overwhelmed by scourge feelings - should usually be gen.

"Would you like me to heal your eyes?" Aranea asks.  
  
 _No_ , you want to say.  _No, can't you heal this wound instead? It shouldn't be too hard, it's just a clean stab through the back. But it hurts; it hurts like I could never have believed._  
  
But that's not a favor you can ask. After all, Aranea won't find anything there when she looks. You accept the first offer.  
  
\--  
  
 _Here's a riddle_ , the nothingness hisses in the dark.  
  
 _What has too many eyes, no heart, and bleeds cerulean?_  
  
The answer is you, of course.  
  
\--  
  
In your best memories, she's laughing. She's filthy, dripping with colors that don't belong to either of you, and a searing flash of admiration lights you up, before you can rationalize it away. You know she's dangerous, but you can keep her in line. You can use her. The two of you could be meant for something great.  
  
You will choose to make this moment the last image of Vriska your eyes remember seeing. Vriska, perched on the branch next to you, all matted hair and dirty fingernails, glasses slightly askew and smile cracked. Your sister is beautiful, you will tell your burnt eyes. Your sister may smell like deceit, taste like brutality, and feel like betrayal, but she is beautiful all the same.  
  
\--  
  
Your story isn't a tragedy. It's a series of fatal errors, borne from the best and worst of intentions. It's unclear which are which.  
  
Who should shoulder more of the blame? You? Vriska?  
  
Does it really matter, out here in the vacuum? In this timeless corridor toward inevitable destruction (or is it redemption?). There's no living here. You're nothing but a puppet, a corpse with your innards cut messily out and strewn across the meteor in the form of indigo blood and cherry sugar water. You've lost enough already, how much will it really cost you to lose everything else?  
  
Goodbye, Dave.  
  
Goodbye, Karkat.  
  
You relinquish red. You embrace violet. You cannot forget blue.  
  
\--  
  
There's a happy ending to this whole mess, but you won't be able to find it.  
  
No, you missed that branch a long time ago.  
  
That doomed timeline goes something like this:  
  
You find the remains of each of your friends, save Karkat. Sollux, blinded and his skull cracked open. Tavros, stabbed. Equius, strangled. Nepeta, clubbed. Feferi, a hole burned through her chest. Eridan, halved. Kanaya, a wound in her stomach and trauma to her head. Aradia, long dead and left for a different timeline. Gamzee, a blood trail to nowhere.  
  
Vriska waits for you on the roof, tangerine and blueberry from head to toe. She smells tart, delicious. You know her plans. You know what she did.  
  
 _Only Tavros_ , she swears. It's the truth. Maybe you always knew.  
  
 _I've gotta go. I have a fight to win_ , she says.  
  
 _I can't let you. You'll get us all killed_. But...is there anyone left to kill? You're not even sure if Karkat is alive. He hasn't answered your messages.  
  
 _Do you really think he won't find us eventually? Someone has to stop him from fucking everything up. Clearly, that someone's gonna have to be me._  
  
You read her again, and still, the same result. If she goes, you die. It's you or her. So you make the deal. Flip the coin.  
  
She steals your luck.  
  
Turns her back.  
  
And says,  _Come with me_.  _One more campaign. The Scourge, together, one last time._  
  
In this timeline, doomed thousands and thousands of decisions ago, before either of you could have dreamed of the power you would have in your grasp now, you watch your own actions unfold. It doesn't have to be you or her. It could be both of you. It could be neither.  
  
This could be your justice. You could wipe the slate clean. You could be together again.  
  
 _Okay. Let's go._  
  
  
But there's a reason this isn't the alpha timeline.  
  
\--  
  
"I wouldn't know what to say to her," you confess to Karkat.  
  
That's not quite true.  
  
There are many things you might want to say.  _I forgive you. Please forgive me. We've both made our mistakes. You did your best, I understand now. You don't have to carry it all on your own._  
  
But when you see her again, if her ghost is still alive, this is what you'll tell her first:  
  
 _I'm happy to see you again._


End file.
